I never imagined I would ever write those four words. This is largely because, until very recently, I had barely a clue what a blog was. I am a complete Luddite when it comes to online stuff. I can handle Facebook – sort of, but the mysteries of Twitter and Instagram and whatever-the-hell-else is out there are baffling to me. While I appreciate technology, and what it can do, I don’t always like it and, far too often, I find myself frustrated and annoyed when I try to use it. 

Consider, for example, something as simple as buying groceries. Or rather, something that should be simple. I’m old enough to remember when most supermarket checkers were older women who stored spare pencils in their hair buns, and competed to see who was the fastest at ringing things up. No trip to the grocery was complete unless you heard a voice like a strangled hedgehog braying, “Six apples at eighteen cents. That’s a buck eight!”  While at the same time, they keyed the item into the register by hand, fingers flashing. Modern trips to the grocery seem to take twice as long, and they certainly lack character.

Of course, it was sometimes awkward when the check-out lady announced what you were buying. Many a high school senior boy’s chest swelled with pride when “Six pack condoms. One thirty-nine!” rang out for all to hear – right up until the checker added “Regular size!” As embarrassing as that sort of thing could be, it pales in comparison to these damnable modern machines that assume that you’re a complete moron, and persist in guiding you through the check out process, step by step, braying out your mistakes for everyone to hear. 

“Place the item in the bagging area,” it demands in tones that suggest that you’re an arch criminal, attempting to steal a box of Frosted Flakes. “Please do NOT forget to take your change!” it chastises, assuming that you’re either too wealthy to care about the extra fifty-three cents, or that you’re so poor that the two quarters and three pennies is the only thing standing between you and eviction.  And the only proper answer to “How many of this product do you wish to buy?” is “None of your f**king business!” To add insult to injury, particularly when I’m in a hurry, the damned machine always makes me feel guilty that I’m not holding  up my side of the conversation. 

And do not get me started about the GPS system in the car. If I can clearly see that Target is a block ahead, will my life be meaningfully lacking if I’m not informed with great precision that my “Destination will arrive in ninety-seven feet”? In the beginning, I was seduced by the convenience of the GPS system and referred to it as the Magical Lady. Now, I just want to slap the bitch. 

Wouldn’t it be a marvelous thing if all this automation could be adapted to a truly useful purpose? If only the voice in my dashboard could also provide shirtless photos of the two guys who are always working out on the monkey bars whenever I drive past Plummer Park – that would be a wonderful thing indeed! Or perhaps the self-checkout could be reprogrammed to convince the hot blond in the produce department that his time could be better spent sunning himself in my backyard while wearing only a pair of tight shorts and some Coppertone. 

All of this brings me back to blogging. I confess that, for the longest time, I was afraid to try it. I was worried that, while trying to upload the blog, I might press the wrong button and cause the collapse of the entire internet or, even worse, delete my collection of shirtless Zac Efron pictures. After my husband assured me that the internet was not nearly so fragile – and that Zac was backed up onto a flash drive – I relaxed and began to wonder just what the heck I should blog about? 

I’ve been told that, for authors at least, a blog should be used as a promotional tool. While that seems like a good idea, an endless series of posts saying basically “Read my books!” strikes me as boring – not to mention obnoxious – and more appropriate to something like Facebook (where it seems to be something of a requirement). I admit to being stymied at first. But then I thought – why not treat the blog like a series of Author’s Notes? After all, I love writing Author’s Notes. Most of my books have them, and I’ve been told that mine can be quite entertaining. They’re certainly a lot more fun than the standard “I’d like to thank my agent, my mother, and the baby Jesus” type of acknowledgment that you find in many books, and at the Oscars. 	

So, for the time being, or at least until I get the hang of this blogging business, I’m planning on a monthly post that highlights something I’ve written. I suspect that the focus will be mostly on my short fiction and novels, as I doubt that most people would be interested in the “processes” of my non-fiction work. (Though there was that infamous How-To book that provided instructions for cunning handicraft projects made out of shed pet hair and dryer lint.)  

At some point, depending on the interest level, I may segue into more practical advice for aspiring authors. But for now, this blog will be about the creative processes – mine in particular.
Let’s see how it goes, shall we?